It’s mid September and I have booked a night on the edge of Dartmoor, a treat to myself as I am visiting the area on business and decide to make the most of it by staying overnight. The drive along the road to my lodgings involves weaving around sheep, who are unperturbed by the presence of cars, often grazing right at the verges and even lying down in the road. From my hotel window, I watch deer and more sheep grazing on scrubland outside next to the road. The light this time of year is beginning to fade surprisingly quickly; I watch for signs of barn owls as twilight falls, but it is soon too dark to see anything at all.
In the morning, grey skies give way to dazzling sunlight. As I look out at the landscape again, a shape on the horizon jumps out at me – it appears to be a pair of ears and I raise my binoculars to see that it’s one of the semi-wild Dartmoor ponies that has meandered into view. I watch it pick its way slowly down the hillside, then I start to spot more. The herd is around ten strong, all with different coloured coats, and with a small black foal amongst them. They are grazing in a leisurely manner, though they do not venture far down the hillside, and gradually they move off again out of sight.
My plan for the morning is to explore an ancient woodland in a village called Shaugh Prior. The National Trust describes a landscape “shaped by many generations of human activity. The remains of a 19th century iron mine, quarry tramway, and brick kiln as well as evidence of charcoal burning can be seen around.” Water is flowing fiercely through a series of boulders underneath the bridge, the sound so loud it dominates any other. I catch a flash of yellow as a grey wagtail flies upstream and picks its way across the rocks as it searches for water-loving insects to eat. I decide to follow a steep path uphill and explore the area above, where huge craggy rocks stand alongside moss-covered trees. I alternate between wandering and sitting, taking in the sunlight filtering through dense leaves, creating areas of jagged shadow. Back down by the river, stone structures are set into the ground, though it’s hard to work out what they once were.
After spending an hour there exploring, I head to the nearby Cadover Bridge, set within a more open landscape, and take some time to explore the rough moors. There are some fishing ponds nearby – at one point, a great beast floats to the surface, bubbles billowing up from its large open mouth, before sinking back into the gloom. The land around the ponds seems to be owned by more ponies, sheep and cattle. There are birds around as well, from commonplace crows and pigeons, to wheatears. A sparrowhawk zips across, weaving between gorse bushes in pursuit of something, and then a woodpecker-like bird on a wire catches my eye. It’s far away and hard to see clearly; in the light it looks olive coloured and its call is like harsh laughter, but its visit is so fleeting that in hindsight I cannot decide whether it was a green woodpecker or the more elusive wryneck. The time of year is right for the latter, but the green woodpecker is much more common. Either way, I don’t submit any formal record of it because I can’t be sure. After this brief exploration, it’s time to get some lunch and then head home.
Moments of Nature 